In Her Parent's Footsteps [Phoenixcz]

[devilbird]

"Would you not cage a pest?" replied the drow. She doesn't even seem phased by your glib attitude. In fact, you don't seem to bother her at all. The other drow take particular pleasure in gloating to Arara, and a lesser extent you, about your capture. They take great pride in describing all of the horrible tortures and humiliating acts that will be your future. The drow that brought you from Cragmaw Castle, however, doesn't even seem to notice you with the exception to reply to the odd parting shot from you or one of your crew.

Over the next several days, you and your group are transported through the Underdark. They make sure that you and your gear are separated and kept under constant watch. They don't want you escaping before they can sell you and your things, after all. You had heard several stories about the Underdark over the years, but it just seemed so strangely vast for a cave system under ground. You felt like you were traveling through another world entirely. So many strange creatures, glowing fungi, and odd hazards piqued your curiosity, in spite of your grim predicament. You could tell Arara was very much the same way. When ever you stopped to rest, she would investigate some of the local flora and fauna to the best of her ability. She isn't the only one, as Rowan also pays attention to the local creatures, but quickly looks to the ground when ever she thinks someone is looking.

After about a week of traveling through a tunnel network, you reach the other side. A gigantic cavern comes into view, and you see a couple more elevators, similar to the ones that brought you into the Underdark in the first place, being guarded by several more drow. Looking upward, you can see 4 large stalactites, connected by various rope bridges, hanging up above.

[Phoenixcz]

I'm glad the drow woman doesn't order extra punishment for my insolence, but I suppose she's accustomed to worse, if she trades slaves regularly. The other drows' threats sound sort of hollow, for now. No doubt indended to frighten and cow their newest slaves. Until we'll get to our destination, it's all just words, and we've just got through worse than that.

I'm surprised the drow bother with our gear. With the exception of Arara's spellbook, from what I can tell, all of i has got more of a personal value to its owner than much of a monetary value. Maybe they realize it too, and intend to use it as another way to break our spirits? Despite the situation, I'm also interested in our surroundings. I've dreamed of visiting the Underdark, though later in my adventuring career, and in different circumstances. I've spent time learning the common language used by underground races for a reason, though they may be some value in keeping my knowledge secret from our captors.

I generally keep to myself and avoid the other girls out of guilt as much as possible, but during the journey... it's impossible to tell the time here... I've tried to apologise to each of them. And there's one thing I feel the need to talk about: Torga's mark. I'm concerned about its changes, and I try to carefully question Torga if she feels any effects, physical or mental. Or maybe not so carefully, as I, by mistake, say that perhaps I should've left her to go to whatever afterlife awaited her instead of giving her to the goblinoid's torments and whatever uncertain fate awaits us in the drow hands and, in her case, whatever the mark and my bargain may bring. I also try to get Arara's opinion on the matter. No doubt she's more learned in arcane matters than myself, and I need to know how much I've fucked up, and what could I possibly do about it, if we ever get out of this mess.

The journey also gives me the time I need to think. I can't blame the gods for this situation, or anyone else, really. It was my stupid plan that got us here, I've made wrong assumptions, and though it wasn't my primary motivation, I let my judgement be influenced by my lewd fantasies. I should've been more insistent when I wanted to play the prisoner on my own, I shouldn't have put so much faith in Dregs, I should've got more information about him... I've missed such a basic fact that the goblin's lair was in a cave instead of in a camp in the forest... and I should've listened to Seraphina's suggestion that we should run instead of trying to take on Klarg. I've tried to save Sildar, and instead I've got us all captured again and Sildar died anyway. His dead falls on my shoulders, too. The notion that not everything is my fault, that I couldn't have done anything about the trap that foiled the "rescue team", that I'm not responsible for Arara's misstep during our attempt to sneak upon the guards, that it was Seraphina who forgot about the torches in her pack, and that the other girls followed me voluntarily doesn't come up in my mind, leaving my disposition rather gloomy.

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

HP: 10/10
Spell slots: 2/level 1
Other resources: Bardic Inspiration, 3/3. Hit die, 1x1d8
Conditions and effects: Naked, tied up, whatever that means.
Achievements: One Time at Bandit Camp

[devilbird]

You do your best to apologize to the girls from what you've gotten them into. The guilt ways horribly on you, and though you know that you can't make things right, you can at least take steps in the right direction. Arara accepts your apology, but the others don't quite see things the same way. Avreene insists that she owes you an apology instead. That she knew she was going to enjoy her capture. She asks for your forgiveness, saying that she got too wrapped up in the pleasure, that she didn't even think to fight back until after it was already too late.

Rowan is actually shocked when you apologize to her. Tears well up in her eyes as she just breaks down. All she can say is, "I'm sorry." She practically chants these words as she crumbles to the ground and rocks back and forth. Her breakdown actually causes some delays to your travel. Your captors do their best to snap her out of it. The threaten her, and even smack her about, but she is completely unresponsive for several hours. The drow look completely perplexed, and look at your with curiosity. When she does eventually calm down, she once again is unable to look you in the eye. However, she does start talking to you. "I'm sorry," she says once more, "Everyone else tried their best, but I was no help at all. I was knocked out by that flood when we first arrived. And when we got captured, I couldn't have been happier to let that wolf dominate me. Some hero I turned out to be."

Seraphina agrees that this was a stupid and risky plan, but insists that it doesn't matter now. She's fine with this arrangement, as she is no stranger to both torture and depravity. She can figure out how to escape when she gets bored of it all. Everyone else, on the other hand, might not like being slaves. She berates you for giving up hope so quickly. Escape isn't a forgone conclusion. Nothing in life is final but death, and even then that means the drow lose their slaves. She informs you that she's gonna figure out how to escape, and that you are free to join her once you are done pitying yourself.

Torga's problem is another strange beast to approach. You ask Arara about the tattoo, but her information is limited. She can tell you that the marks are definitely magical, but they aren't any symbols or runes she has ever seen. Since the symbol grew and changed, then it is likely that it isn't actually complete yet. She is also unable to figure out what the effects of it actually are. If you want her to help Torga, then you will need to help her find someplace to research the topic, and soon. Torga informs you that, as far as she is aware, she doesn't actually feel any different. The marks feel unnatural to the touch, but she hasn't been able to find out if they are good or evil. This has her confused and worried, but can't be helped as of right now. Maybe if she had her holy symbol, she might be able to channel her divine powers better.

You are all loaded up into the elevator and ascend into one of the spires.

[Phoenixcz]

The girls reactions make me feel little better. I'm still convinced Avreene did nothing wrong, and that it was my fault I let her go with me, and I'm glad Seraphina is still feeling confident in her ability to escape, and even surprised she seems to be enjoying our situation. Though to be fair, on some level, so am I and Avreene, apparently. Rowan's reaction shocks me, however. I try to calm her down, if I can, or at least reassure her when she snaps out of her shock later: "It's all right, the trap wasn't your fault. It could've happened to everyone, and I'm glad you've survived it. And I'm the last one who could blame you for the wolf... you've seen me and those hobgoblins, haven't you? If anything, you gave us a second chance at escape, and it wasn't your fault that didn't work... or that I've insisted on pressing on instead of running away." If I wasn't tied up, I'd give her a hug, though it would be awkward, given our nudity.

Seraphina calling me out on it together with Arara's opinion that we'll need to look for answers to Torga's mark sooner rather than later is what snaps me out of my ennui completely. It's true, words don't mean anything, finding a way to escape would be the best apology. Guilt can wait for when we're safe... or dead.

But there's no chance to escape now. We'll have to see what else do the drow have in store for us.

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

HP: 10/10
Spell slots: 2/level 1
Other resources: Bardic Inspiration, 3/3. Hit die, 1x1d8
Conditions and effects: Naked, tied up, whatever that means.
Achievements: One Time at Bandit Camp

[devilbird]

The elevator lifts you high into the air along a natural wall. It takes you through a maze of spider webs that weave around the stalactites, presumably with the drow's creepy mascots skittering around on them somewhere. Once you are above the net of silk, you are able to see how large the base actually is. Like a tip of an iceberg, the webs concealed four giant masses of stone. Furthermore, it seems that the drow have also drilled into the cave side. The lift reaches a ledge on the wall near the two southern stalactites. Here you see two hulking and hairy brutes both attending to and guarding the rope for the lift. They growl menacingly at your party as the drow command you to march forward along the pathway.

You get guided north. At least, you think it's north. The Underdark is seriously messing with your sense of direction. Either way, you and your compatriots take note of what you see. Now that you have found your resolve to escape, knowing as much of the layout as you can is invaluable. Across from the lift you walk past several smaller caves dug out into the wall. The two southern caves have several steps leading up to their respective portcullis upon a wooden platform. Likewise, the third cave seems to be a larger version of this, but with far more foot traffic.

You walk past the largest of the four stalactites, with a steep rope bridge leading up to it on your left. Thanks to your ability to understand elvish, you catch that one of your captors refer to it as the Priestess's Tower. (History 9) You recall that drow are very religious as a species, with Lolth playing a huge roll into everything they do. This tower is probably where the most important people at the outpost hang out. The entire camp so far has been dimly lit by lanterns filled with phosphorescent fungi. Seeing those same lights all the way up the pillar gives you the idea that there are possibly three or four floors in there.

Ever since you entered this large cavern, you've been hearing the sound of a waterfall constantly in the back ground. When you reach another silk rope bridge, you finally find the source of the noise. Coming out of the ceiling, water rushes down the cave wall to your right and disappears into the darkness. You have to wonder exactly how high up you actually traveled. You see several more of the hairy monsters standing near the ledge while holding barrels to catch water.

You cross the bridge and are led into the final spire. Here you meet the drow that will be responsible for making your time here a nightmare. A priestess stands before you with two warriors and three elite guard. While you can tell drow apart just fine, you do have to admit that they can be hard to describe to others. Pitch black skin with hair as white as snow. Clothes have a spider motif going on. Really narcissistic and violent. One of the warriors seem to have solved that problem for you by being horribly disfigured. Burn scars travel from the majority of his face all the way down his atrophied right arm. What wasn't burned looks like he could have been a very pretty man, but what ever got to him clearly put an end to that.

The priestess herself is dressed up in silk robes and a sort of scale mail made from insect chitin. She holds a twisted wooden rod that makes you uncomfortable in its presence. She addresses you all with a look of pure disdain, "I am Ilvara Myszzrym, but you miserable pieces of trash may call me Mistress Ilvara. Know that this day is the happiest day of your lives, for you finally are on the path to achieve your purpose. Serving your superiors. Though your lives will never be worth more than half of what we can wring out of them, know that we will certainly try to make you somewhat useful before you die. As lesser species, not one of you is worthy to lick clean my boots. However, if you do what I demand of you, and obey without question, I may yet give you that honor. Accept your fate, learn to obey, and you may survive."

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Alright. About half of what I wanted to type, but I'm starting to drift off. I'll leave the slave pens and the npc for the next post.

[devilbird]

After being forced to listen and comply to the narcissistic rantings of a self absorbed tyrant, She commands the drow escorting you to take you to the slave pens. All of the raiders but the leader take you through to the other side of the stalactite and over another rope bridge. Now on the north side of the waterfall, you reach the ledge again and are able to see what was on the other side. A couple guards open a heavy iron gate that is bolted to the stone. Inside you see a menagerie of strange creatures generally sitting around and being depressed. There isn't much to look at in this cave besides it's captives, as there is no furniture or anything besides a few chamber pots. The drow remove all your restraints while several of them hold weapons to your throat. Those restraints are replaced by chained manacle around your wrists, ankles and a collar around your neck. They allow you to walk normally, but restrain your movement otherwise. You are all summarily tossed in and the gate is locked behind you.

The first thing you notice about your new roommates is that the more humanoid races are still somewhat clothed, albeit in tattered underclothes. This strikes you as a little unfair, though they probably weren't captured naked. It is amazing how varied this pen's occupants are. You and your crew are almost the only surface races here. However, there is another dwarf here, that perks up upon seeing Torga. She walks over and greets you happily, "Well met! Th' name's Eldeth. Of clan Feldrun. It's nice ta see another dwarf again, though I wish t'were in better circumstances. Still, if we kin get a third, maybe we can give these deep gnomes a run for their money."

Torga introduces herself to Eldeth, and you look toward the deep gnomes she mentioned while the two dwarves get lost in conversation. You've heard about the svirfneblin from tales about the Underdark, but usually they are reclusive and never actually come to the surface like forest or rock gnomes. As such, this is the first time you have ever seen one. Two are huddled together off in one strange corner, keeping mostly to themselves. They look frightened and fatigued, content to just avoid everyone. The other one doesn't seem as anti-social. You can see him happily talking to a fish with legs, a kuatoa if you recall, when he sees you looking his way. He excitedly signals the fish-man to wait and comes running up to you. He grabs your hand and shakes enthusiastically, "Hail friends! My name is Jimjar. What would your names be?"

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

I was going to introduce them all in just one block of text, but I'm seeing now that these are some important interactions. So, split further.

[Phoenixcz]

Though I try to hide it, I pay a lot of attention to the elevator. It'll be the key obstacle to any escape attempt. Having only one route out, and one that can be easily watched or blocked, and that may require someone cooperating on the upper end, is unfortunately effective security measure. One of us... say, a halfling... could propably sneak out with some supplies... drow need those, right?, but all of us? Not a chance. There's always a quick and direct way down, but, well. The webs would stop uf before we hit the rocky bottom, but spiderwebs mean spiders, and becoming a dinner of one isn't very enticing prospect. We'll have to find a way to deal with that problem first.

Once up, it's not looking any better. The bridges offer no cover, and force us into limited area, easy pickings for a drow with a crossbow. I wonder what the creatures working at the lift are... they can't be lycanthropes, they aren't bugbear, and I'm not familiar with any other humanoid species covered in so much fur. Gnolls, maybe? I haven't ever seen one, but the description vaguely fits... assuming this is what hyena looks like, as I haven't seen one either. We'll have to deal with them one way or another, if we'll want to use the lift... but perhaps there's another way out dug in somewhere in the rocks?

The drow priestess doesn't impress me much. Oh, I know she's likely the most powerful of all the drow here, if she's in charge, but in our current state, any of the drow is extremely dangerous foe for us. Her speach isn't anything special either... well, not after being threatened and humiliated worse over the last few days. Kind of takes the edge of it. Though I do feel a hint of excitement when she mentions licking her boots... oh, gods dammit, not this again. Haven't I had enough of this with the goblinoids? For now, I keep my head down and follow orders. I'm pretty sure I'll provoke them somehow soon anyway, better to keep it for later.

Another pang comes when the rope gets exchanged for "proper" chains and collar. Yep, I like that too... I must beyond help at this point. I've grown accustomed to being nude in public... such as it was... over the last few days, so I don't feel much embarassment when I notice the previous prisoners have more to wear than I do. But I'll check the reaction of others, expecially Arara and Avreene. The former is apparently an exhibicionist too, and the later propably likes the chains. And, thinking of my companions, I'll pay more attention to Rowan. Our capture... and what preceded it... seems to hit her harder than the rest of us, and we don't need another breakdown. I've tried to improve her morale before, but if she'll need more comforting, I'll talk to her. It's not just for practical reasons, I don't like seeing her like that.

But introductions are in order first. The other prisoners are a strange bunch... I have no idea what some of them are, and though I've heard of them, I've never seen a svirfneblin before. For all the tales I've heard and told, I realize I'm actually pretty inexpecienced when it comes to the real world. I leave Torga with her kin... I kinda don't want to annoy her too much after that mark thing... and I'm genuinely surprised by the svirfneblin's... Jimjar's, apparently... greeting. It shows on my face when he shakes my hand. "Ah... hello. I'm Lina, and these are my friends. I hope." I introduce the rest of my companions by names, if they don't interrupt me and do it themselves, or otherwise protest. "We're adventurers, though somewhat down on our luck currently. I must say, you seem very cheerful, considering the circumstances."

[devilbird]

With your introduction, Jimjar quickly turns to point and laugh at the kuatoa. "Ha!" he scoffs, "Told you they looked like adventurers. You owe me five gold fish boy!" The kuatoa does what you assume is grumbling and just goes to sulk in a corner. The little bluish-grey gnome carries a smug look of satisfaction until he realizes that he is still in the middle of introducing himself. Switching back to his friendly demeanor, he says, "Sorry about that, just a friendly wager with Shuushar. Don't let his people's reputation fool you, he's a pacifisht. One of the nicest guys here in the clink. Anyways, if you have any questions about this place, lemme know. We all need to stick together after all."

He might not be a bad source of information, given that there is still a great many prisoners for you to meet. Some of them clearly don't look friendly. There is an orc off on one side sizing all of you up. He looks like he's wanting to pick a fight with one of you if he gets the chance. You see a melancholic drow sitting gloomily next to a wall. From the bruises and cuts you see, it's apparent that his species don't play favorites when it comes to their prisoners. Most noticeable of all is another one of those furry ape-ish creatures that the drow had working for them outside. Everyone else in the prison have given him a wide birth.

While your eyes dart from place to place, you hear a long drawn-out kyuuuuuuu sound from behind you. You and your companions turn to see a weird mushroom standing behind you. You all realize it has released some sort of spore into the air and try to block it, have all already breathed it in. Eldeth, on the other hand, doesn't seem too concerned with the potentially deadly spores. All of a sudden, you hear an excited voice inside your head going, "Hi! My name is Stool. An-an-and I'm this many." The bizarre mushroom creature holds up a single round stumpy foot to try to indicate it's age. Unfortunately, it doesn't have any fingers or toes, so it tries to hold up it's other foot as well. The result is a silly and energetic dance as it tries to keep holding up feet, never once giving you an accurate idea of how old the creature is.

Eldeth's voice now sounds off in your head, "Easy Stool, you shouldn't surprise people with your spores. It might freak them out."

"But, but, but... I just wanna make friends," the little mushroom creature replies sullenly before launching off into a barrage of questions, "You guys wanna be my friends, right? Are you all from the surface? Is it true that there's a big ball of fire up in the sky that keeps everything bright? What is that ball of fire? Is it dragon's breath? Have you guys ever met a dragon? Hah! Are YOU guys dragons?"

[Phoenixcz]

At least someone keeps his spirits up in this place. But gnomes I've met tend to be a bit too much energetic and oblivious to their surroundings, perhaps it's not so different with svirfneblin. I shrug and honestly answer when he talks about the kuo-toa: "I'm not aware of any special reputation his people have.If you listen to surface rumors, everyone in the Underdark is evil or at least hostile to visitors, even though there are many stories proving it's not true." Though to be fair to rumors, none of the drow she's met so far was exactly Drizzt material.

I'll better avoid the orc. He may want to beat up someone to prove himself the strongest, or just to let out the frustration of his capture. And while the strongest-looking amongst us... Torga and Avreene... would be nice targets for the former, anyone could be a victim for the later. Even unarmed, orcs are not to be trifled with, especially as none of us have a weapon either. The drow and the furry creature just confirm that the drow are just as willing to turn against themselves as they are against surfacers. Propably former guards who displeased their mistress somehow.

The walking mushroom is another surprise. For a moment, I start to panic when I breate in the spores, as like with the inhabitants, I haven't hear nothing good about the Underdark's fungi, but the dwarf doesn't seem too concerned about it. That doesn't mean it's harmless to the rest of us, though... not everyone has the famed dwarven constitution. Hearing a voice in my head doesn't help matters any, but my worries won't last long as I watch the bizarre "dance", and I soon have to put an effort not to laugh. When Eldeth mentally scolds the fungi, I nod as I realize the spores may have something to do with the telepathic communication. I don't know how to use that telepathy, though, and I don't want to share my embarassing thoughts with the others... assuming they can't read them anyway... so I try to not to think of anything... which sounds easier than it is... and answer the barrage of questions out loud: "Whoa, slow down a bit, little guy... I'll gladly answer your questions, but one at a time, not everything at once. And I'll need to know how you to talk to you like that, I haven't done this before, and, well, some of my thoughts are too private to share." I tap the side of my head for emphasis as I speak.

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

HP: 10/10
Spell slots: 2/level 1
Other resources: Bardic Inspiration, 3/3. Hit die, 1x1d8
Conditions and effects: Naked
Achievements: One Time at Bandit Camp

[devilbird]

"Oh, I got this one," Jimjar says helpfully. "Stool's a myconid. He isn't actually talking to you. Not really anyways. Myconids have this kind of psychic spore thing that they can use to communicate. You hear a voice because that's how you understand language, but you can just project any thought you think about. So all you need to do is focus on your thoughts, and try not to think about anything you don't want to share. Otherwise everyone will be able to see and hear it in vivid detail," he says with a laugh.

So it is as you suspected. All you have to do is not think about anything embarrassing, and you won't end up sharing it. Still, it seems like you were the only one to consider this up til now, as the others visibly start to panic. All of a sudden, everyone that Stool spored is assaulted with a flurry of erotic images spiraling throughout their thoughts like a tornado. At first, you are unable to tell who is thinking what, but each scene is shown through the perspective of one of the girl that experienced it. The scenes flash by so quickly before being battered away by the next thought, that dozens shoot by each second. They lack detail thanks to this, but each thought is still able to convey a general idea of what was happening. Each thought comes with a flurry of conflicting emotions, from lust to anger, guilt to joy. The entire experience continues as the girls, and possibly you as well, obsess over the sexcapades that lead you to where you are now.

The only person that you don't notice anything erotic from, when you can pin them out, is Seraphina. Since the time you met her over a week ago, you've learned that she isn't exactly shy about her sexual exploits. Instead, you see different memories coming from her perspective. The odd image of men in red cloaks intersperse the horror show of goblin erotica that is prevalent in the rest of the party's thoughts. You get feelings of anger and regret as you watch her commit scenes of theft, shake downs, and bullying in the company of these red cloaked strangers.

Finally, after the mental typhoon of everyone's dirty laundry, you all burn out from mental fatigue. The thoughts slow down to a trickle, and the girls start guarding their thoughts in the hopes that theirs won't be the last one everyone lingers on. Your entire party is blushing furiously while avoiding any sort of eye contact. Torga and Eldeth, who just moments ago were getting along like family, are now staring at each other in awkward silence. Finally, Jimjar bursts out laughing, "Well I'm not entirely sure what I just saw, but it looks like you girls know how to have fun. I'll bet five gold that this place get's a lot livelier with you all around. Any takers?"

"But wait," Stool chimes in, "Why was everyone hugging each other like that?"

"You don't need ta worry 'bout that, Sweety," Eldeth panics as she blushes and laughs nervously, "Why don't you go play with Shuushar while we talk?"

"Aw..." the little toadstool pouts as he scampers off to the fishman. Every last prisoner has turned their attention towards your group, trying to figure out what that whole outburst was about.

[Phoenixcz]

Oh, crap. I really hope it wasn't my question that brought this... I think something like this was inevitable, as the spores took us by surprise, and others would likely came to the same conclusion as I did sooner or later. I can't see it, but judging by the heat in my cheeks, I must blush horribly as I watch...is that even the correct word?... the "show". Seraphina's thoughts stand out from the more understandable events of last few days. Is this the secret I've sensed from her? But there's so much more I can't really pay much attention to it... and I feel guilty for even noticing it, as it is clearly something she wants to keep private, as are the other images. For all the good it will do.

When it's finally over, I reluctantly explain: "So... ugh. You know how I was talking about being down on our luck? This was it. I hope you understand why we don't want to talk about it. Or even think about it, apparently. Crap. This... wasn't good. So, that's why we're all naked and stinking of week-old goblin... ahem." I ignore the other prisoner staring at us. While they've noticed something is going on, they weren't hit by the spores, and avoided the whole show. Thanks Tymora for that. I look at Stool who turned his attention to the kuo-toa, oblivious to what he saw. "No offense to the little guy, but I think we would all rather avoid something like this in the future. I don't know if we should avoid him, or try to control ourselves better, but the later won't be easy, and we can't exactly train it, can we?" I hope that our new friends failed to notice that, judging by the emotions shared through the link, some of us enjoyed ourselves during what happened.

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

HP: 10/10
Spell slots: 2/level 1
Other resources: Bardic Inspiration, 3/3. Hit die, 1x1d8
Conditions and effects: Naked
Achievements: One Time at Bandit Camp

[devilbird]

"Actually, Ms. Danelis," Arara interjects with a feeble attempt at composure, "Perhaps we should not be so quick to forsake the abilities of the little mushroom. He could be very useful in communicating with out the drow listening in."

Torga grunts in frustration before sighing, "As much as I hate to admit it, I agree. It's likely to get worse before it gets better, but if we want out, then we need to coordinate in private. Stool might be our best shot at that."

Jimjar's face brightens at the mention of escape, and Eldeth looks at you all in shock. "Those goblins musta broke yer brains. Still, I must be nuts as well, cause I want out too. It isn't hard to talk to Stool, ye just need to stay calm and collect yer thoughts. I can teach ya if you can figure out a way to get us out of here."

Rowan and Seraphina just stay quiet. Everyone just had their worst experiences aired out in front of strangers, but these two are taking it far worse than the rest. Rowan already feels a great shame for what happened with the wolf. Thanks to Stool's spores, you know exactly how much she enjoyed it at the time, and how much she regrets it now. But you also noticed a feeling of nostalgia during those memories. You aren't completely sure if she feels that now, or if she felt it at the time, but you believe it to be the latter. As for Seraphina, you aren't sure what to make of her memories. You've suspected her of being a rogue since you started traveling with her, and her equipment certainly lends itself to the lifestyle, but you don't recall her ever actually coming out and saying it. In fact, she danced around the topic when you met her in the bar. The gate opens and one of those hairy beasts carries a large tray of bowls into the cell. It must be feeding time. With everyone going to grab their food, you may be able to pull one to the side and talk while you eat.

[Phoenixcz]

"Oh, I can see the advantages of this ability. It's just that sharing what happened amongst ourselves is embarassing enough. Showing those things to strangers, well... And not thinking about pink dragons is harder than it sounds, at least I was never very good at it." It's not the memories themselves I'm afraid of, as I don't think I've got anything worth keeping secret, but while I don't mind a little... or more than a little... exhibicionism, it's the emotions accompanying those images what I'd keep to myself. Eldeth or someone else seeing me being raped by a bunch of goblinoids, I can take, but they don't need to know I've enjoyed it.

I keep my voice down... no need to draw further attention from the other prisoners, and I look at the dwarf woman. "Anyway, we don't have a plan of escape, not yet. We've just arrived. We'll have to watch things for a while to notice any possible chance. And we'll need to know how things work in here."

When the food arrive, I have to decide who to deal with first, if anyone. Rowan's been in a bad mood before, and this'll only make things worse. As for Seraphima... I'm surprised by her reaction. Well, not surprised, shocked would be a better word... this is the first time since our meeting I've seen her this affected by anything. Not even the rape and capture seemed to break her like this. I'm not sure how to approach her. Talk to her, or give her time to deal with the situation? I don't want to look like I'm prying into her privacy... her past is her thing, and I doubt it would affect the rest of us here... but I also don't want to look like I'm shunning her after what she involuntarily shared with us.

Rowan is it. I think she needs the support more than Seraphina needs assurances that we're still one party, no matter what she did. I take my food (and some for Rowan too, if she doesn't go for it on her own) and make my way towards her. "Hey, can I join you? We can talk, or I can just keep you a quiet company, if you'd prefered that."

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

HP: 10/10
Spell slots: 2/level 1
Other resources: Bardic Inspiration, 3/3. Hit die, 1x1d8
Conditions and effects: Naked
Achievements: One Time at Bandit Camp

[devilbird]

"Pink dragons," Jimjar muses with a smile, "what an odd concept. Can you imagine a story with pink dragons? What would they even breath?"

Jimjar seems to be entertained by the thought, while Eldeth just nods and starts trying to think up methods of escape. That gives you plenty of opportunity to go grab your food. An action that you would regret more if you had any other form of subsistence to rely upon. Within the bowls is a musky and unpleasant smelling porridge that seems to consist mainly of mushrooms. While technically edible, you know that keeping this vile prison ration down will likely be the toughest challenge you have ever faced. The grainy pinkish green slop bubbles and pops, splattering the slightest amount of the vile sludge against your arm. You can feel your skin crawl at the touch. Without even taking that first bite, you can tell that this miraculous nightmare food will somehow manage to be both bland and disgusting. Should you ever want to prove yourself a true hero, you might even consider stealing everyone else's ration and eating them yourself. That way they might die relatively less unpleasant deaths.

You take your steaming bowl of desperation and go sit by Rowan. She didn't seem to have an appetite, so she didn't even try to grab any of the food. Truly a blessing in disguise, as the poor girl is suffering enough. Still, you provide a dish for her all the same, as she's probably going to need to keep her strength up if she wants to escape this nightmare. She acknowledges your presence with a glance, but doesn't seem quite sure how to talk to you about anything, so she stay's silent. The problem wasn't even that she had enjoyed herself, as you couldn't really blame her for that. It was that she had enjoyed herself with her own private humiliation. With the goblins, the entire party can at least say they understood what the other was going through. However, Rowan was mated by the wolf alone, so she couldn't even talk to anyone about it. Not without bringing up her betrayal.

[Phoenixcz]

(sorry for the delay, got stuck with a writter's block. My brain, just like my old computer, doesn't handle current hot weather well, and unlike my old computer, I can't just go buy a new brain. I think)

"I have no idea, but that's it... they don't actually exist, I think, but once someone mentions pink dragons, you just have to think about them, even if you don't want to... especially if you don't want to." I don't dwell on impropably colored giant flying reptiles any longer, and grab the food.

I have to admit I'm actually impressed by it. I don't think you can just make something this disgusting by random chance... this thing must've taken real effort. I hesitate and wonder if death by starvation is actually that bad, but even if I refuse to eat this, future meals will hardly be any better. At least there aren't spiders in it. As far as I can tell, anyway. Wouldn't surprise me, but drow worship them, so propably not. But I can actually do something about the taste, if not the look, smell or texture. I bring the bowl to Rowan, as I need a free hand to cast a spell, and then use the familiar words and gesture to make the gruel taste like something else. Anything else, really, I'm not picky.

Sitting next to Rowan, I let her eat in peace for a while, if she dares to touch the vile stuff, before I speak. "Don't blame yourself. You haven't done anything wrong. Not when you got hit by the trap, not later with the wolf. I can't honestly say that I know how it felt, but there was nothing you could've done, you could as well enjoy it. I don't think any less about you for that. I shouldn't have gotten you into that situation in the first place. I understand if you don't want to talk about it, or even think about it, but if there's anything I could do to make you feel better, please tell me, even if it's just leaving you alone. Despite what I do, I'm not very good at reading people, so sorry if my presence is unwanted."

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Casting Prestidigitation to flavor the gruel. Assuming it works, that includes Rowan's meal as well.

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

HP: 10/10
Spell slots: 2/level 1
Other resources: Bardic Inspiration, 3/3. Hit die, 1x1d8
Conditions and effects: Naked
Achievements: One Time at Bandit Camp

[devilbird]

You attempt to cast a spell, but it fizzles out. It seems like there is something preventing the use of magic within the pen. You don't know how far it extends, but this is valuable information to plan your escape around. Things could have been bad had you tried to fight your way out, only to learn that you couldn't fight. Perhaps it would be wise to find out where the limits of this dampener lie. Unfortunately, this means you are still required to eat the vile mushroom sludge as is. Truly the price of knowledge.

You take the unfortunate slop to Rowan, and try your best to console her. She barely acknowledges your presence before just sitting in silence for some time. Finally she opens up with, "That wasn't actually the first time."

[Phoenixcz]

Finding out my spell doesn't work is surprising, but it makes sense... the drow keep spellcasters imprisoned here, they'd need some ways to keep us from using our magic. But how? There doesn't seem to be anything that could cause the effect... no glyphs, no suspicious artifact, and no mage watching over us. I though this sort of effect is very rare... I'll have to talk to Arara and maybe Torga about this, it could complicate any escape attempt relying on magic, but perhaps we could find a way to avoid it, or even use it to our advantage... later, though, right now, I'll have to deal with Rowan. And, unfortunately, with the gruel. That spell would've really came handy... and for cleaning up too. After the goblins and the travel, all of us could use a bath, but that's unlikely, and while the other prisoners propably don't care, as they aren't much better off themselves, I'm aware that I stink.

I don't push Rowan further and eat in silence, but she doesn't tell me to go away, which I consider a good sign. Maybe. When she finally speaks her confession, I'm surprised... a familiar situation during the last half-hour or so. Not the first time? "Well, that's unexpected. But if you think I'll look down upon you for it, you're wrong, and not just because you're taller than me." I smile, but don't know if she'll actually react to my joke, and lower my voice to more conspiratory whisper "I can't speak for the others, but I'm the last one who should judge people based on what they like, and if you haven't noticed, it seems all of us are secretly, or not so secretly, a bunch of perverts. Except Torga, maybe." That's certainly true: Seraphina doesn't even tries to hide it, I know what Avreene's reasons to take part in my stupid plan were, Arara got excited enough to mess up our sneaky attempt to deal with the goblin guards, and I know too well where I'm standing. In fact, I'd like to know more about Rowan's experiences, but have enough common sense to avoid prying.

"I consider you my friend, and nothing you've done will change my mind on that. Well, unless you've murdered a whole lot of innocent people, but I don't think I'll have to worry about that. I'll be here for you, if you need anything."

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

HP: 10/10
Spell slots: 2/level 1
Other resources: Bardic Inspiration, 3/3. Hit die, 1x1d8
Conditions and effects: Naked
Achievements: One Time at Bandit Camp

[devilbird]

Rowan doesn't seem to laugh at your joke, but she does consider what she knows about the party's perversions so far. While she was never privy to Avreene's motivations, she did witness Arara's sexual awakening while streaking through the cave. Likewise, Seraphina has had no qualms about her overt sexuality, and has made passes at several within the group before reaching that ambush. Your statement does get you wondering what, if any, Torga's secret kinks are. Everyone else has had secrets so far. Is she really the only exception? Then again, it seems unlikely that one as devout as a cleric could let a sin like lust take her so easily. She may have her desires, she's only mortal after all, but she probably has them in better check than most. Still, it's something to wonder about.

"Thank you," Rowan whispers painfully, her face in a grimace. This still clearly has a hold on her, but she's at least talking now. She looks at you with a weak smile and says, "I may talk to you about it at some point, but I don't think I'm ready."

At the very least, you are making some progress with her. It can't be easy having a dirty secret like hers publicized among a bunch of strangers, but at least she might be able to feel less freakish among her fellow adventurers. The touching moment that you were working towards was then trampled by the orc that you saw earlier. Sensing Rowan's weakness, he stomped over and yanked the bowl of mush out of her hands, simply grunting, "Mine." The food isn't exactly palatable, but Rowan needs to keep up her strength after her ordeal. More so if you plan on escaping.

[Phoenixcz]

I haven't expected immediate positive outcome anyway, so I'm glad for any small improvement to Rowan's mood. I smile to myself, for multiple reasons, actually, but it doesn't last, as the orc arrives to rudely interrupt us. Seeing him take Rowan's gruel, I glare at him, but stop myself to think before acting rashly.

He's much bigger and twice as heavy as me. Avreene could perhaps match him physically, maybe Torga, despite the size difference in her case. Lack of weapons and the manacles hinders both sides, but the orc's strength and toughness give him advantage, and I'd have to rely on mobility more than him, thus the restricted movement is bigger problem for me. If I could use magic, it would be easier, but even without the effect that stops my spellcasting, I need a focus to put him to sleep. But the orc's physical power isn't what gave me pause. It's the implications of starting the fight.

The disgusting meal isn't worth fighting for, but that's not what this is about, it's about the place in the local hierarchy. The orc obviously wants to prove himself as the toughest of the prisoners. Rowan is a good choice of victim: looks strong enough.. certainly more than me, Arara or Seraphina..., so the orc doesn't look like weakling who needs to bully the weakest one, not too strong to be a serious condender, and clearly not in a good shape to fight. Rowan is also a complication for me: I have no idea how would she react to me starting the fight on her behalf. On one hand, I... and hopefuly rest of the girls... have her back, and gladly get into a fight for her sake, which would show the other prisoners that our group keeps together, and messing with one of us would draw a response from the others, but if I start the fight, Rowan would look like she can't defend herself, and maybe resent me for assuming she can't deal with her problems herself. Also, if I start the fight and others don't join, I'll get my ass kicked, which wouldn't make me look good, and would break our image of united group. Ironically, I wish I had the advantage of Stool's spores now, as I could communicate with Rowan, and perhaps the others, to decide on a course of action.

My deliberation takes time, which suits me just fine: I'd prefer if Rowan made the first move, both because it would show she's not as defenseless as she appears at the moment, and perhaps help her to get out of her current mood. If she doesn't... well, I won't let the orc get away with that so easily, but I'll have to decide what exactly should I do.

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

How restrictive are the restraints?

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

HP: 10/10
Spell slots: 2/level 1
Other resources: Bardic Inspiration, 3/3. Hit die, 1x1d8
Conditions and effects: Naked
Achievements: One Time at Bandit Camp

[devilbird]

You struggle the decision of whether to kick the orc's ass or not. You can see Rowan's fist clench and shake as the frustration builds within her, but she doesn't make a move to stand up for herself. She's still too beaten down by shame and despair to resist. You gaze about at your comrades, and it seems like Torga is too engrossed in her conversation with Eldeth to have noticed the bullying just yet. However, Arara and Avreene both have taken notice and seem to be struggling as well. Seeing that no one is going to stop this, the orc just snort's smugly and begins to walk away. Suddenly, you hear a squeak of rage echo through the slave pen. Seraphina comes running out of nowhere and tackles the orc's legs out from under him. The bully then falls forward and lands face first into the stolen food from hell. The little halfling looks a bit dazed, like she just ran headlong into a wall, but her anger seems to help her focus. Meanwhile, you can hear several drow guards laughing at the spectacle. The orc lifts his head from the bowl of mush and looks furiously at the halfling.

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

All the drow's prisoners, including the characters. wear iron slave collars along with manacles connected to iron belts by a short length of chain. This leaves the prisoners restrained, but doesn't affect their movement or speed.